


if I know that everything still lies before me

by knightinbrightfeathers



Series: a city without concept [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Race Changes, Bisexual Female Character, Ensemble Cast, F/F, Filipino Character, Israel, Israeli character(s), Lesbian Character, Muslim Character, Pride
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 06:29:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11330391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightinbrightfeathers/pseuds/knightinbrightfeathers
Summary: The girls go to Pride.





	if I know that everything still lies before me

**Author's Note:**

> This year, Beer Sheba (where this AU's Éponine goes to university) held its very first Pride. It was also my very first Pride, and it was an amazing experience. I wanted to share that experience with Éponine and Cosette. I also wanted to share the amazing pride I feel for the queer community of Beer Sheba, which did a beautiful job of pressuring Town Hall until they gave in and let us march down the main street with our rainbow flags. Last year they wouldn't let us march down main street and in the end there wasn't a parade at all, so this year was a big fuck you to the conservative assholes who got last year's parade cancelled.  
> There's a very nice, quite famous Pride parade in Tel Aviv every year, but I think everyone deserves to march in their own city.  
> The two girls Cosette walks to the parade meeting place, the ace booth (complete with infomational poster) and the crowd shouting at the mayor are all things that actualy happened (the first happened to me). I know someone who lives next to a guy who might be the mayor's boyfriend...and I stand by that vague statement. Anyway, this whole fic is very true to life, down to the rainbow fountain.  
> I love you all for your comments on the last fic in this series. Happy Pride month!

“Excuse me, are you going to the parade?”

Cosette glances up from her phone. The girl who just spoke is fifteen if she’s a day and covered in glitter. Standing a little behind her is another teenager, rainbows painted on her cheeks. They’re both grinning like mad.

“Yeah,” Cosette says.

“Uh, do you know how to get there?”

Cosette is not very familiar with Beer Sheba, but the parade starts right in front of the hospital, which is on the way to the university, and that’s a familiar landmark. Besides, she has Google Maps on her phone, and these girls are so fucking young and eager, like baby birds.

“Yeah. Do you want to come with me?” she asks, and is rewarded by the girls lighting up even further.

-

God, it’s hot. Éponine is always complaining about the weather in Jaffa, saying that the humidity at the center of the country is awful and ruins her hair, but it wasn’t this hot when Cosette left Tel Aviv. She can feel her dress sticking to her back.

The girls chatter beside her, occasionally involving her in the conversation, and Cosette smiles and pokes gentle fun. They talk like the internet come to life, spouting doge jokes at each other and snorting with laughter.

“Fuck, we’re awful,” one of the girls says to Cosette. “Sorry you have to put up with us.”

“I’ve met worse,” Cosette says, because she has. “You don’t need to apologize.” Because they don’t. She wants them to know this now, early, before the world tries to beat them down. They’re sweet and free and Cosette feels ridiculously protective. She wonders if this is what Éponine feels like all the time.

-

“Baba,” Cosette says, heart careening against her ribcage, “I have to talk to you about something.”

Her father looks up from the rosebushes. “Go ahead, _habibti_.”

“Can you sit on the couch, please?”

Jinan raises his eyebrows at this, but sets down the garden shears. “Has something happened?”

“No!” Cosette wrings her hands nervously. “Can you just come inside please?”

“Of course.” Jinan wipes his hands and feet before entering the house and settling down on the sofa. “Speak.”

Cosette stands before him in her school clothes, and forgets everything she meant to say. By the time she finally manages to stutter something out, she is crying.

Her father holds her tight and lets her cry into his shirt. “There is nothing you can do that will make me stop loving you, _asfoora_ ,” he tells her. “Never forget that.”

-

_Where r u?_

_On my way_ , Cosette types. _Five minutes. Escorting a pair of baby lesbians._

 _They grow up so fast_ , Éponine shoots back.

The girls make a joke about how funny it would be if the people in the café by the parade’s path were homophobic. How funny their shock would be when the parade passed by. Cosette doesn’t cringe, doesn’t, doesn’t, doesn’t.

-

Éponine’s first words to her are a lie.

Cosette is at a bar, even though she doesn’t drink alcohol, and her friend has ditched her for a boy and a man twice her height is trying to buy her a drink. She is trying to say no, but it isn’t coming out clear enough, because he isn’t leaving her alone.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe it’s you!” says a girl’s voice, and an angel in heels and perfect lipstick shoves herself in between Cosette and her unrelenting suitor. “I haven’t seen you since base camp! Are you here with someone?”

“No,” Cosette manages.

“I’m sitting over there with friends. You have to come and meet them, they’ll love you.” The girl gives the guy who was bothering Cosette a quick smile. “Sorry, I’m stealing her.” She wraps a bony hand around Cosette’s wrist and tugs her away without a second glance.

“I never served in the army,” Cosette tells the girl’s back.

The girl shrugs. She’s already quite tall, and the heels are both unnecessary and unfair. “You didn’t like him hitting on you, right? You should still sit with us, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Cosette says.

“No problem. I’m also doing this because one of my friends thought you were cute, but if you’re not into that, we can say you’re gay.”

“I _am_ gay,” Cosette says, and blushes bright red.

The girls smiles at her, and Cosette is really glad that she wore her nice jeans. “Cool. My name’s Éponine.”

“And mine’s Cosette.”

Then they’re at the Éponine’s table, which is completely crowded with boys. “Guys, this is Cosette, she’s a lesbian,” Éponine says, and shoves Cosette gently into a chair.

“Gay high five,” someone says.

-

There aren’t too many people at the meeting place. A hundred? Two? It is Beer Sheba, after all, not the world-famous parade in Tel Aviv. Cosette stands just inside the fenced-off meeting place and scans the crowd. Even on her toes, she can’t see much.

“Hi, _mami_ ,” says a voice next to her ear.

Cosette whirls. “Hi,” she says, and kisses Éponine.

A few months ago Éponine wouldn’t have kissed her in public. Now she just slings a casual arm around Cosette’s waist and says, “I missed you too.”

“Nice shirt,” Cosette says, plucking at Éponine’s bright pink tank top. Block letters down the front ask ‘Why either/or if you can do both?’

“R made it. I got you something.”

“You shouldn’t have,” Cosette says.

Éponine smirks at her and places a pair of fuzzy rainbow antennae on her head.

“You really shouldn’t have,” Cosette says drily, but she lets Éponine hold her hand anyways.

-

“Last thing on the agenda today, people,” Enjolras says, ignoring the groans of ‘finally’ and Bossuet’s accidentally knocking over his lemonade in celebration. “Pride is this week, and Ferre and I thought it would be nice if we went as a group.”

“You can’t really go as a group to Pride,” R points out. “We’ll get separated five minutes in.”

“We can at least start as a group,” Enjolras says. “Who’s in?”

There’s a show of hands.

“Sorry,” Joly says. “Too much heat and walking for me.”

“And I’m staying with him,” Bossuet says. “And Chetta’s staying with us too.”

“Chetta’s not in this group,” Bahorel shouts from where he's lying on the floor.

“I know, but how cool is it that she’s dating us?” Bossuet asks, grinning.

“Aww,” Cosette coos. Éponine rolls her eyes.

“Feuilly already told me he can’t skip work. How about you, girls?” Enjolras asks.

Cosette shakes her head. “Not this year.”

“Are you going to the one in Beer Sheba, then?”

Éponine snorts. “If there’s a parade in Beer Sheba this year, I will personally dance in the rainbow fountain at the entrance to the city.”

“But you’d march, right?” Courfeyrac asks. “If there was?”

Éponine nods and looks at Cosette.

Cosette takes her hand, squeezing it. “Yeah, we’d march.”

-

Cosette snaps a picture of the ace booth for the group chat and turns her phone on Éponine. Her girlfriend mugs for the camera, posing like a supermodel and making exaggerated bedroom eyes at Cosette.

“Come over here,” she says, wrapping an arm around Cosette's waist. "Selfie time.”

“You take it, you're longer,” Cosette says, and stands on her toes to press a kiss to Éponine's cheek.

“Perfect,” Éponine pronounces. “Come on, let's get closer to the stage.”

“It's just the speeches now,” Cosette protests, but lets Éponine guide her through the gathering crowd.

She's rewarded for humoring Éponine when half the crowd shouts "come out of the closet!" at the mayor when he comes onstage.

“Is this a Beer Sheba thing?” Cosette yells into Éponine's ear.

Éponine just shakes her head and grins at her.

-

“We should keep in touch,” Éponine says once they've left the bar. Everyone around them is hunting for cabs or checking to see when the next bus is, and the two of them have ended up in a tiny bubble of quiet. “So you don't have to go out with shits who abandon you.”

Cosette takes a deep breath and hopes she's reading the situation right. "I can give you my number.”

“You shouldn't give your phone number to strangers,” Éponine says, mock-scolding her. Still, she takes Cosette's iPhone and sends herself a text. "There.”

“I had a lot of fun tonight,” Cosette offers.

“We're cool people. Everyone really liked you, so you're welcome to join us whenever you want.”

God, she's not getting the hint. Cosette crosses her toes for luck and tries again. “I don't really go to bars much? I don't drink.”

“Oh, okay.”

“But maybe we could go for coffee sometime? If you have time?” This is nerve wracking. Cosette will never know how people do this on a daily basis. If Éponine brushes her off, she's going to accept it politely and then never leave the house again-

“Yeah, I'd love to!” Éponine says. "I don't live in Tel Aviv, but I come every week. I'll text you?”

“Sounds good!” Cosette squeaks. Her face is red, she just knows it is.

“You okay?” Éponine asks, sounding amused.

“I've never asked someone out before.”

“Wait, you want to go on a date with me?” Éponine asks, eyebrows climbing up her forehead.

“Fuck, I'm so bad at this,” Cosette groans. “Yes, I want to date you. But you don't have to! I'll totally understand if you're not interested!”

“But you're still up for next week, right?”

-

Cosette's never felt so big. It's like she doesn't have any edges. She _is_ the crowd, jumping and dancing and singing along with the music.

Cosette's cultural identity is something she frequently has a hard time picking apart. Her mother was from the Philipines, an immigrant worker young and inexperienced enough to be taken in by a pretty face, abandoned as soon as she started to show. Her adoptive father is an Arab Muslim man. Her Baba has always been open with her about her own history, was always careful to let her make her own choices, find her own place. She appreciates it, and it's one more thing she loves him for, but it doesn't make anything easier.

 _Where is your family from?_ is such a common question in Israel. Picking through your family history to identify your roots is a seventh grade school project. Cosette's own was thinner than anyone else's in class.

Usually, she's fine with it. She's herself. She has a family. She doesn't need an identity she can deliver in an easy to understand line to complete strangers.

Still, there's something about Pride that makes her feel sure. Here is an identity; here is a place where she can slot neatly into a space of her own making. She's never belonged so well.

She throws her head back and sings.

-

“Are you staying tonight?” Éponine asks. She rummages through the kiosk's ice cream freezer. “Oof, why don't they ever have Coca Cola flavor?”

“Ew.” Cosette picks a traffic light popsicle for herself.

“You're very judgemental for someone who's wearing fuzzy antennae, Cosette.” Éponine gives up and chooses a watermelon popsicle. “Yalla, let's pay.”

They pay the disinterested cashier and stroll off. It's less than a minute before Éponine stops in her tracks. “Wait, where are we going? Do you need to get to the train station?”

Cosette shrugs. “The last train north was an hour ago.”

“So you're staying?” Éponine asks, lips stretching into a smile.

“Well, I could walk home-”

“Shut up,” Éponine says, laughing. She switches her popsicle to her right hand and grabs Cosette's hand. “You're lucky that my roommates went home for the weekend.”

“Well, I was planning on sleeping in your bed,” Cosette says, “so...”

Éponine snorts and bites into her ice cream like a weirdo. “It was fun, right?”

“Mmhmm.” Cosette squeezes their joined hands. “Say, how far is your apartment from the rainbow fountain?”

“Nope,” Éponine says in English, popping the 'p'. “No way.”

“Pleeeease?” Cosette whines, looking up at Éponine through her eyelashes. “For your friends? For me? For the mayor?”

“That face doesn't work on me.”

“Yes it does,” Cosette says comfortably, leaning her head against Éponine's shoulder.

Éponine sighs and steals a bite of her popsicle.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! You've arrived at the end. If you have questions, I am happy to answer them.
> 
> Habibti: my dear in Arabic.  
> Asfoora: bird in Arabic. An endearment.  
> Mami: a Hebrew term of endearment.  
> Yalla: let's go in Arabic, used as slang in Hebrew.  
> Cosette didn't serve in the army because she's Muslim, and therefore not obligated to serve in the IDF. Everyone else in Israel is though, unless they have a disability/illness/severe allergy the army doesn't want to insure, so please shut up about Gal Gadot or whatever. Thanks.
> 
> Title (and absolutely the song that Cosette sings along to) from ["Everything is still before me"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4s5HGI4Xx1s) by Ania Bukstein, who actually sang at the parade.


End file.
